


Twenty-Five Minutes

by supernaturallylost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, I'm Sorry Dean, M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While grieving the death of his greatest love, Dean meets the god Orpheus. Orpheus leads him to a cave where he can be reunited with his lost one, but there's a catch. Based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, written for Katy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Five Minutes

ONE

Dean cradled the body.

The burn of Cas’ wings faded delicately into the shadows of the trees around them. Fragile but permanent, the black outlines of feathers turned toward Dean, like an ironic attempt to comfort him. Dean hardly registered the wings, however. The amount of concentration that went into ignoring the dull, pale, frozen blue eyes of the angel denied him the ability to recognize any signs of Cas’ defeat. Regardless, Cas laid there as broken, immobile, and vacant as the demons just beyond the tree line.

Dean nodded.

A gentle stroke of Cas’ shoulder, a brief glance at the hole in his side, and a lingering breath against his forehead did nothing to resurrect him.

Dean continued nodding, as if he’d forgotten that he’d started in the first place.

 

TWO

Dean sat, hip to hip with the dead angel. He stared at a particular dandelion in front of his foot, counting the petals as if it was the only thing that mattered.

One, two, three, four, five…

Knowing the exact number of yellow lines was the only pressing matter. That a dead body reclined bloody and broken beside him meant nothing in comparison. Only the dandelion mattered now.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten…

 

THREE

Time endured the harassment. As much as Dean begged, bargained, and argued, time remained consistent. Despite the ever-changing screams and shouts and whispers and sobs, time maintained its resolve.

 

FOUR

His appeals to demons and angels alike managed nothing. In the clearing in the forest, none would accept a deal with Dean Winchester.

 

FIVE

“I’m sorry.”

 

SIX

“Say something to me. Speak to me.”

 

SEVEN

“Cas.”

 

EIGHT

Dean wrapped a cold hand between his own. He pressed the skin to his forehead, and rocked back and forth.

 

NINE

Dean stared absently, stroking the sleeve of the dead angel.

 

TEN

The tenth minute finally began. Immediately, the angel disappeared. In his place, a bed of flowers rose from the ground. Forget-Me-Nots.

With the arrival of the flowers drifted a sound that was like listening to a tree grow. Music, gentle and soft, surrounded the clearing.

Dean began shaking, reaching out and retracting his hands several times toward the flowers. His breaths became hurried and shallow. He turned his head and saw the scorch marks fading under newly grown grasses and dandelions.

“No.”

The outlines of feathers disappeared entirely under greens and yellows.

“No!”

Dean leaped up and turned in circles as the music continued, louder and louder with each passing second.

At the end of the tenth minute, the clearing in the woods as well as the area in which the demons had once been, seemed to have grown entirely anew, without even a trace that any violence had occurred.

“No,” he whispered.

 

ELEVEN

“No?” A voice that sounded like a vine wrapped around white birch tree at dawn responded.

Dean turned immediately to see a pale man wrapped in green robes pressing petal-soft touches against stem like strings of a lyre. There was peacefulness in the man’s hazel eyes, but a permanent sorrow seemed to weigh on them.

“Bring him back, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, advancing roughly toward the intruder. Even in his anger, however, he avoided stepping on any of the Forget-Me-Nots.

The pale man with the lyre only continued playing, stepping away from the advance in peace.

“Dean Winchester, it is best to let these things go.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you dick, and bring him back.”

“He’s dead,” the man replied simply.

“No,” Dean firmly responded.

The pale man gave him a sideways glance, like the sound of rustling leaves.

 

TWELVE

“Bring him back right now! Don’t think I won’t kill you, whoever you are.”

“Orpheus,” the pale man nodded in introduction.

Dean’s back straightened.

“Greek god Orpheus?”

“The very same.”

“What do you want with Cas? Where did you take him?”

“I didn’t take him anywhere,” Orpheus responded. “It was his time, and he was taken where all things in the forest must go. He was taken to the cave.”

“What cave? Where is it?”

“Will you go after him?”

“Just tell me where the cave is,” Dean glared, a hand twitching toward his knife.

“You cannot bring him out of the deeps, Dean Winchester. If you try, you may find it more difficult than anything else you’ve encountered before.”

Dean laughed humorlessly, his eyes sparking with an ecstatic hope.

“I’ve been through hell, heaven, and purgatory,” he glowered. “I don’t think a cave will be able to stop me.”

Orpheus only nodded, his fingers still plucking deftly on his lyre.

 

THIRTEEN

“I will lead you to the cave, Dean Winchester, if you choose to go.”

Dean nodded, hesitantly, though his eyes brimming with pure elation at the idea that Cas could be so easily returned.

 

FOURTEEN

The music continued to play as the two of them approached a mountain beyond the trees. Along the way, several animals joined. Dean even thought he saw a tree pick up its own roots to follow the sound of the music.

 

FIFTEEN

The cave was visible now from where they stood.

Dean’s head felt lighter, and his heart beat faster.

Orpheus only continued playing his lyre, his eyes the same shade of peace and sorrow.

 

SIXTEEN

“I will lead you into the cave, as I was once led,” announced Orpheus, resting his lyre against the rock.

“You’ve been in the cave before?”

Orpheus looked into Dean’s emerald eyes and smiled. Knowing, kind, and remorseful, Orpheus nodded. A word escaped his lips: Eurydice.

 

SEVENTEEN

“You won’t need your knife,” Orpheus nodded pointedly. “There are no creatures here that will harm you.”

“You said this would be challenging,” Dean noted with a furrowed brow.

“It will be the most challenging thing you have ever done.”

“Then I’m keeping the knife.”

 

EIGHTEEN

The cave ended.

Dean pressed his hands against the dead end and pushed. He leaned into the stone with his shoulder, pushing will all of his might.

“There is no more,” Orpheus explained. “Your angel is here with you.”

“Cas?” Dean asked into the dim darkness.

Orpheus closed his eyes as a tear spilled out over his smile.

“Dean?” a rusted voice responded.

“Cas!”

Dean pressed harder against the stone, hit it with the back of his knife, and tried to kick it apart. The smooth rock remained undamaged.

“He is not behind the stone,” Orpheus explained. “Your challenge, Dean Winchester, is not any monster that can be killed. You have slain many beasts in the past; doing so now would not prove your insistence on returning your angel to the world above. You must fight the one thing that can never be fully destroyed. If you can defeat it, his life will be saved.”

“What are you talking about? Where’s the angel?”

“Dean?” Cas called out again. “Dean!”

 

NINETEEN

“Dean Winchester,” Orpheus stepped backward, “your challenge is to have faith. You must walk ahead of him, and you must not turn back. You cannot touch him or see him, and you will not hear his footsteps behind you. If you come into the forest without having turned back, you will have earned his life, and he will be yours again.”

Dean leaned forward, his index finger raised in question.

“What do you mean I can’t see him? How will I know if he’s there?”

Orpheus only nodded.

“I will not join you for your ascent. I have been here once already, and here I should have stayed. You must return on your own.”

“What happened the last time you were here?”

Orpheus shook his head and whispered, “Don’t turn to see if he is following you. Have faith.”

 

TWENTY

Orpheus vanished, as if he’d integrated himself into the very rock of the mountain. Dean now stood alone at the end of the cave.

“Cas?” he whispered.

“I’m here, Dean,” the familiar voice responded, just behind him.

Dean yearned to touch Cas’ arm, to hug him tightly, to press their foreheads together. He yearned for some form of contact, any sort of assurance.

“I’m here with you, Dean, and I always will be.”

“Let’s go home, Cas,” Dean smiled, unsatisfied with the seemingly endless space between them and the freedom of the forest.

“I will follow you, Dean,” Cas said placidly.

Dean took a deep breath.

He didn’t turn around to make sure, though his shoulder twitched backward.

He did not reach back in the hopes of brushing hands with the angel.

Dean simply nodded, swallowed, and moved forward.

 

TWENTY-ONE

The path seemed longer than before.

“Are you still there?” Dean asked worriedly.

“Of course,” came the answer.

 

TWENTY-TWO

Dean couldn’t hear footsteps behind him.

“Are you still following me?” he asked.

“I am,” came the response.

 

TWENTY-THREE

Dean stumbled. The echo was too loud, too clear, and too unobstructed. There couldn’t possibly be anyone else in the cave with him.

“Are you still there?”

“I am here with you, Dean,” came the reply.

 

TWENTY-FOUR

Dean could hear his heartbeat, but not Cas’ footsteps. Dean couldn’t hear Cas’ breathing, couldn’t feel his usual stare against his neck.

“Are you still with me?” he asked skeptically.

“I am behind you,” came the return.

 

TWENTY-FIVE

Dean could see the forest. He was at the mouth of the cave.

His shoulder twitched backward.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave comments if you'd like.


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